


Adoration

by mitternachtseule



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anal Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, POV First Person, Panic Attacks, Song fic, Spoilers for Mission Phantom Limbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 08:28:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18546046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitternachtseule/pseuds/mitternachtseule
Summary: Kazuhira Miller is imprisoned and tortured by the Soviets in Afghanistan. His vivid memories of Big Boss and their love help him to survive.





	Adoration

**Author's Note:**

> So I had a vague idea for this in my head for quite some time, and then I heard this song... It gave me _all_ the feelings... Enjoy! (As always, feedback is highly appreciated ;-) )

_Just to feel the taste of love_  
_Intertwine with your inner thoughts_  
_Feel your loving touch_  
_I know you're too far gone_  
_And when I lay me down to sleep_  
_The stars above me bright and far away... like you_  
  
(Mortal Love – Adoration)

The walls of the prison cell are coming closer with every passing hour. Not that I could see them; they put a black sack over my head. But I feel it, now that the sun is going down for the tenth – or eleventh? – time. The cold of the Afghan night cools my burning skin, all the bruises and cuts they left with their fists, their boots and their knifes. So far, they didn’t break me. They don’t even know what questions to ask. At least not the important ones. They have no idea who I really am.

I’m used to places like this, but usually it’s me asking the questions, more or less… _insisting_. Other than Ocelot, I never enjoyed torturing; it’s usually a necessary means to an end. Once or twice, though, the prisoner in question deserved what we did to them. Should, for instance, a certain Dr. Emmerich ever end up in our hands…

I indulge in that fantasy for a while, until the cold creeps into my bones. Pain is burning in my arm, my fingers tingle. The ones supposed to be where only an empty sleeve is left. Phantom pain, the doctors call it. My loyal companion for the past nine years. A constant reminder of what I – we – lost that night, keeping my thirst for revenge alive. This thirst is what keeps me going, keeps me alive. Lust for revenge drives me out of my bed in the morning, revenge is my last thought before I fall asleep.

And in the night… In the night, you are with me again, hold me again. Until the morning comes and I realize again that you’re gone. Your body might be only a few thousand miles away, but your mind… I don’t know if you even realize where you are. If so, I hope you’re in a better place than me.

“Snake”, a faint voice whispers. Eventually, I realize it's my own.

Your touch still lingers on my phantom limbs, on my shoulder I can still feel the weight of your hand, the warmth of your skin under my fingertips. Once, my fingers knew every line, every scar on your body. I remember in perfect clarity the last night we spent together on that beach in Costa Rica, the night before you went to Cuba. The last time our bodies, our lives were whole.

You came to me with the night winds, the taste of the sea on your skin. I held you close, told you how beautiful you are. You laughed, this deep, rumbling laugh that always went straight into my heart. Then you kissed me, salt on your lips, and told me how much you love me. Your hands were already all over my body, the callouses on your fingers leaving glowing traces on me. We undressed each other, not giving a damn if anybody could see us. The world belonged to us that night.

My memory has always been a strength of mine. If I want to, I can preserve a certain moment, keep it alive like a video. Better than a video, actually, because my memories include taste, touch and smell.

Right now, the memory of your teeth on my neck sends shivers down my spine. I dream myself away from my prison cell, from my torturers, back to this last time you made love to me. I feel myself getting hard, despite of it all. Your hands are on my chest, your teeth graze my nipples, while I bury my nose in the crook of your neck and whisper praises into your skin, deeply inhaling your scent: salt of the sea, dry leather, a hint of your cigars, and something that is uniquely you. Something that makes me feel high as a kite.

I trace the soft hair on your chest, feel the hard muscles in your abdomen, leave a trail of kisses all the way down to your navel, while your hands caress my thighs, from the outside to the inside. You know this special spot I have there, where the skin is all soft and sensitive, and you dive down between my thighs, lick that spot. I can’t hold back a moan, and you look up, grinning at me devilishly. You know so damn well how to drive me crazy, always did.

I know what you’re up to, but tonight it won’t be enough. Your mouth around my cock feels amazing, I love how you alternate sharp sucks with playful licks, but still, it’s not enough. “Snake… I need you inside me…”, I whisper into your hair.

You look up at me, the moonlight glistening in your azure eye. “You do?”, you smirk. “Let’s see what we can do, then…” Before I know what’s happening, you have flipped me onto my stomach.

“Didn’t we talk about using CQC in bed?”, I reprimand, not meaning it at all.

You laugh. “Since we’re not in bed I thought it’d be alright.” Your hands are cupping my ass, kneading and caressing it, while your mouth leaves a trail of licks and little bites down my shoulders and my back. I feel my heart racing, every bite makes me gasp. When your expert fingers start spreading me up, I relax into your hands easily, trusting you entirely. Warmth radiates all inside of me, and when you touch that sweet spot in me, I reply with a moan. You laugh in response, deep and careless. My moan turns into a surprised gasp as you bite my earlobe, still chuckling.

Soon, you’re inside me with three fingers, slowly stretching me. I have learned to love that little sting, impatiently waiting for you to move on.

“You good?”, you whisper into my ear.

“Yeah. Ready for you.” I’m already a little out of breath, feel my cock leaking precome into the towel underneath me.

“Good.”

I can’t help a little whimper as you remove your fingers, but only seconds later I feel the tip of your cock, coated in a generous portion of lube, pressing up against my hole. Slowly, carefully, you press inside. Your cock is big, not overly long, but thick, lined with strong veins. It fills me up in all the right places, just feeling you resting still for a minute inside of me sends shivers down my spine. You give us both time to adjust before you start moving, slow thrusts at first, moving almost all the way out before going back in balls deep, making sure I feel every inch of it.

“Kaz…”, you whisper into my ear, “feelin’ so good for me…”

I turn my head around, catch your jaw with my teeth, licking my way into your mouth and kissing you deeply. “Feelin’ good for me, too, Snake… Wanna hold you…”

We switch positions. I’m on my back now, my legs draped around your waist, my arms around your shoulders. We’re melting into each other, our mouths, our chests, our hips. I can perfectly feel the strong muscles in your shoulders shift while you fill me up so fucking deep, making me moan shamelessly into your mouth.

You are panting and moaning now, too, increasing speed and intensity. The praises you’re muttering into my skin where ever you’re kissing, licking and biting me turn incoherent. I can tell you’re close, and I’m close, too, heat pooling in my stomach and my head turning light.

“Kaz… love you…” Your voice is a low rasp.

“Love you, too, Snake…” A sharp thrust from you makes my breath hitch. “Snake… I’m gonna…”

“Then… come with me…” Three deep thrusts later, I fall over the edge, pressing my mouth into your shoulder not to cry out loud. “Snake…” Hot, white light sets my head on fire while I shoot my load in between our bodies, my mind goes blank. All I can feel is you, inside of me, around me, holding me safe and tight. You follow me a split-second later, filling me up with hot come while crying out my name into my hair.

“Kaz…”

Afterwards, we’re lying on your backs in the warm sand, watching the stars above us in comfortable silence. There is no need to speak. We can hear each other’s thoughts in perfect clarity.

That night, the world belonged to us. We felt so strong, so invincible.

We were so wrong.

 

The cold creeps back under my skin. Those memories are not enough, not here and now. I feel tears streaming down my face, dampening the sack over my head. I can hardly breathe, start gasping for air until my head starts swimming. No use in struggling against the handcuff that chains me to the wall, but I can’t sit still, the walls are so close they’re crushing me, I need to get out of here, I don’t know how much longer I can take this…

I need air, I need light, I can’t take this, I… need…

I squirm and wriggle until I feel sticky liquid running down my arm; the handcuff has cut deeply into my wrist. I focus on the sharp burn until the panic slowly dissipates. The deep, slow breaths I force myself to take help, too. I’m still crying, but I don’t really care. Nobody there to see it, even if the damn sack was off, anyway.

Exhaustion finally takes its toll, I feel sleep coming closer and give in to it. I’m going to need whatever strength I can muster when those Russian fuckers start the next round.

 

A hand touches my shoulder. I know it. It belongs to you.

A soft voice whispers my name. “Kaz…” Your hand leaves my shoulder, only to remove the sack. Fresh air touches my face. A dream… I’m still dreaming… “No more use for me, huh?”, I whisper.

“Kaz, it’s me!” Of course, it’s you. I know your voice. I hear it every night whispering my name.

“Snake…” I blink my eyes open, but the lights blind me, so much it hurts.

“They do something to your eyes?”, you ask, your voice all warm with concern.

“No, its… just bright, is all…”

Gentle hands touch my face, one yours, one… cool… of metal? I can’t see, but I can feel you putting – glasses? – onto my nose. When I open my eyes again, the light is no longer blinding. I know that feeling, those are my aviators.

 _Snake… You… are real… You really came for me… You’re really awake…_ I feel my heart pounding so loud, I’m sure you can hear it, too. _Nine years… Nine long years…_

“What took you so long?”, I ask you with a humorless laugh. Because what I really want to say to you, there are no words for that. I know you understand me anyway, I can feel it in the gentleness of your hands as they free me from the handcuff and lift me up.

“We’ll talk, but not here”, you tell me as you lift me up on your shoulders, as effortlessly as if I were a child, and you carry me out, into freedom. I can’t take my eyes from your face. There are so many new scars, and that horn-like shrapnel in your forehead… You have been in the same hell as we all, and you came back. While you carry me towards the chopper, I memorize every single new line on your skin. I’ll make them pay for each and every one of it, I swear to myself.

At the same time, I feel the warmth of your body radiating into me, awakening feelings I thought I’d lost forever, along with you. They hurt and they feel so good, both at the same time.

When the skull unit attacks, I feel no fear. You move with the same strength and elegance I remember from you, as if the past nine years were nothing but a bad dream. The mist around us, the surreal way those skull soldiers move, makes me wonder if I’m really awake. For a split-second, I’m afraid that I’m still in that room, shackled to the wall, waiting for my end. But then you turn around to me on your horse – you really came on a white horse to rescue me? – and the warmth in your azure eye tells me I’m safe.

I never want to look away again.

My thirst for revenge is still here, burning hot and white in me. But now I know it won’t just be wishful fantasies. We will make them pay.

All of them.

Together.


End file.
